The Mystery of the North Americas
by JustAReaderThanks
Summary: America, otherwise known as Alfred F. Jones, is a teenager in Boston Massachusetts. Kept from the other nations who don't know that he exists, how does he deal with suddenly coming into full contact with the rest of the world after a life of isolation? AU where America was not adopted by England, but rather left to grow up on his own and sheltered by the government.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 The Prologue

Alfred F. Jones didn't know who he was. Well, that's a bit of an overstatement, he knew _who_ he was, but the real question is, _what_ he was. But all he knew was this: he really didn't want to be in this situation right now.

He sat on a hard plastic chair in the station of the Boston Massachusetts local police department. He promised himself, (and the officers working there) that last time would be the last time, but here he was proving himself wrong. And he was a hero, he wasn't supposed to be wrong! He frowned at the tiled floor under the his blue converse covered feet, lost in his own thoughts of how he actually managed to end up in this situation.

Finally, his thoughts were interrupted by an officer in uniform, calling his name. "Excuse me, Mr. Jones, the boss wants to see you."

Alfred forced a dazzling smile on his bright face, in an almost natural instinct. "Hey, Henry. You know you can just call me Alfred, right?" His tone was light as his blonde, straw colored hair. He rose to his feet as he spoke, a warm distance away from the officer, Henry.

"Alfred, this is the tenth time this month,' Henry sighed. "It's like you're in here every other week."

"Well, not _every_ other week," Alfred smiled sheepishly "I like to stop by for the brownies you guys always serve!" He wasn't lying, but he wasn't exactly telling the truth. They did have delicious brownies every Friday.

"You and your food." Henry shook his head, a reluctant smile playing on his lips. "Go on, you don't want to keep the boss waiting."

"Thanks Hen! You're the best, see you next Friday!" Alfred shot the man a dazzling Hollywood smile, as well as a pat on the shoulder. Henry just smiled and continued his day. No matter what was happening, Alfred always tended to make everything better and lift everyone's moods when he came into the station. Nobody was sure why, but it seemed the boy had an effect on everyone.

Alfred strode carelessly over to the brown door he knew to belong to the head of staff in this particular department. Opening the door, he was met with the face of a man in his late forties, white haired and dressed according to the station's uniform. "Yo old man!" Alfred cheerfully greeted "it's been a while!" He leaned on the doorframe as he talked, hands in the front pockets of his Captain America hoodie like a teenager. His smile was bright towards the man he found himself to know well, but he braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"Alfred. Sit." The man sighed down at his paperwork. Seeing the nineteen year old was common at this point. He could almost feel the boy walk into the department, they were so commonly associated with him.

Alfred obeyed the command, sitting in front of the desk where the man sat. "How are you bro? It's been so long!" Alfred was almost akin to a puppy, yapping whatever came to mind, almost to try and distract himself from what was coming.

"You saw me last week. Alfred, I know I shouldn't ask, but what were you thinking?" The man finally looked up at the nation, piercing blue eyes meeting Alfred's. "A ten car pile up in the middle of Boston, are you kidding me? The bank robber last week wasn't good enough for you?" his tone was serious and reprimanding as he spoke.

Alfred's bright smile faded into one of sheepishness and a bit of shame, he was still trying to keep his smile on. "It wasn't my fault this time, I swear! See there was this little girl crossing the street and I-"

"You what Alfred? Found it suitable to punch the car coming at her, causing thousands of dollars in property damage, and causing about ten traffic collisions in the process?"

Alfred winced at the man's words. "Hey, I saved her life, I'm a hero! Why are you treating me like a villain?" He began to lose his smile, the corners of his mouth dropping into a pout. He had too, the car wasn't stopping for her, it was going to hit her. Being a hero, he knew he couldn't just sit by and do nothing.

"Alfred. We tell you this every time you wind up in here. Leave it to the police to handle crime in the city."

"But I can't just-" Alfred began in protest, before being cut off once more.

"Yes you can. You always cause more harm than good when to interfere! You may have caught the burglar last week, but you smashed up a shop! Just keep to yourself!" The chief finally snapped at him, making Alfred frown. "This is going to be your final warning. The next time this happens, we're going to send you to the capital, and let the government officials handle you."

Alfred's jaw almost dropped open. "You can't do that! I'm a hero! I'm not going back there!"

"Alfred! They released you because they finally felt you had matured enough to not be under their watch anymore! If anything, it's turned you more defiant than ever!" The chief stood. "One more problem, and you're being sent back to the white house, and you will stay there. You have to lay low. This is your final warning." The chief declared.

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm the United States of America! You can't keep me from my own country forever!"

"Your government is doing what is necessary to keep you safe! I repeat, this is your final warning! Now leave, before I change my mind." The chief glared at the nineteen year old from where he stood behind the desk.

Alfred darted to his feet with a glare behind his glasses, turned on his heel, and stormed out. Nobody can tell the hero not to do his own job! He was the United States, he had to help his people, regardless of what his stupid government thinks! He stomped out of the police headquarters, and into the street outside, his eyes meeting the sky.

It was a clear blue day. Usually he would be happy enough on days like this to take a walk and admire Boston, but now, he honestly wasn't feeling up to it. They had no right to treat him like a prisoner, he was the United States for god's sake, he lived for freedom! They protested he needed to be kept safe from the other nations of the world. Pft, what did they know.

Alfred didn't hate his government. He loved his people, and he loved his nation and everything they stood for. But even when surrounded by his own people, people he could feel connected to his very existence, no matter where they came from, he was lonely.

Alfred sighed at the sky, beginning to walk along the street. He would usually be smiling at everyone he passed, and try to lift their spirits, but at this point, he had given up making actual friends. Too many funerals. He had stopped attending funerals ages ago.

There was only one thought that Alfred could match with what he was feeling. A bird in a cage was no more free than one who constantly returned to it.

His thoughts echoed in his head as he walked, perfectly blending in with the crowd of his fellow Americans touring Boston in a hurry. People in the north east were always in a hurry, to do this, that, or another thing. That's why Alfred loved staying in that area so much, the people were curious and hardworking, as well as fast. He lived for action and learning, so of course when he was released from what he considered to be house arrest, he headed north to the city of Boston Massachusetts.

Not only was the city a fast moving place to live, which already called to him, it was the business atmosphere. Not that he was much of a business person, but it called to many international workers and tourists, something he loved about his country. He had such a curiosity, who were they? How did they live? Why hadn't he ever met another nation? That was a question that he had been asking for centuries, who were they? He knew he had to have come into contact with the Europeans in his childhood, he remembered running. Running running running far away from the scary men with the light skin, like his own.

If he could go back in time, he would have run the other way. Then maybe, they would know that he actually existed.

Alfred halted his footsteps to glance up at a large building made of glass, shiny material, that reached towards the heavens. It was obviously a government building, and he had seen it house many international guests, but what it was for he had yet to know. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt to find out. Just one peek into the international building, right? Nothing could go wrong, he was just curious, that's all.

He slowly made his way towards the doors, but it was his one hand on the handle that suddenly sent alarms blaring.

* * *

Hey y'all, just a quick authors note here. I haven't written in a while, so I admit, I'm rusty. But let me know if you're interested in this story by commenting, liking, following, whatever you want to do. I appreciate all constructive feedback. The original idea that I decided to make a spin off of belongs to hedgehogkween, presented in their story The Anonymity of Watching from Afar. It gave me a lot of inspiration, and I recommend the story greatly. That being said, I am not copying it, I loved the concept that was presented, and that's the only thing I am using, everything else is my own creation, except for the fact that I own nothing but this writing. Anyways, check them out, and I would really appreciate you reviewing this! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 The Beginnings

Who ever knew that trying to open a door would lead to so much chaos? That was one of the only things running through Alfred's head as he stumbled backwards from the handle his hand touched. Alfred glanced to the sides of the building to check for guards, or any kind of authority really, given that he hadn't come across any yet. Sure enough, a man and woman in blue uniforms rounded the corner of the brick building, spotting him from his position in front of the doors.

"Hey! You can't be here!" The man called to Alfred, who felt his lips pout in response. He wasn't doing anything wrong here, really! There wasn't anything wrong with exploration, besides he didn't see any signs or anything. Besides, he couldn't go back to the police station on the charge of trespassing,or they wouldn't leave him with just another warning. He just couldn't do that.

The officer's quickly made their way to Alfred, out of breath and startled by the loud ringing of the alarm. People walking on the nearby streets were looking for the source of disturbance now.

"Kid, you can't be here." The female officer addressed Alfred professionally, obviously somewhere in her mid-twenties.

Alfred felt his eyebrows furrowed in disruptance, to which he responded to the officer

"Why not? I'm not doing anything wrong here."

"Sir, this is an official building of international affairs."

"So?"

"So, they don't want any kids running around messing everything up." The male cop stated sternly, with a gaze of ice into Alfred's own blue eyes.

Kid. That's all he was called nowadays. Of course, he wasn't called it as much as he was when he actually looked like a human kid, back during his colonial days. But now he looked at least nineteen, they had no right to call him a kid anymore. Hell, they wouldn't be calling him a kid if they knew how old he really was. Alfred himself didn't even know that information.

Alfred had remained silent and still during his glaring session at the male police officer, something that had escalated into more of a staring contest rather than simply a glance. Next to them, the female officer rolled her eyes and reported into her walkie talkie that was situated on her shoulder.

"Tell the office to turn off the alarm. No, no emergency. Just some kid messing around."

"I'm not a kid!" Alfred suddenly turned his head to snap at the female. He really was getting irritated with all of this. He really couldn't walk down the sidewalk without getting into some kind of trouble, could he?

"Alright sir. Please vacate the premises, or we'll have to bring you down to the station" the male chipped in.

Alfred glanced back and forth between the two officers, stubborn. He really wanted to stay, just to spite them. However, the reasonable part of his mind won over. He couldn't get into any more trouble today. Even if the trouble he had gotten into was for a good cause.

He turned on his heel, and stalked away, back onto the sidewalk, dejected with his hands in his pockets.

What was so important about some fancy international building anyways? What could be so serious about the stuff in there that someone can't even put their hand on the door? Alfred frowned as he walked, something uncharacteristic for the pseudo teenager. What were those officials hiding? He, as a citizen, had the right to know, right? Alfred shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. No, it was none of his business. Why was he getting so hung up about a little building, it's not like it's something too important to him, right?

Despite his reasoning thoughts about the building, something was calling him to it. Something was weird about that building.

Whatever, Alfred reasoned. His eyes darted up from the grey tiles of the sidewalk to spot a McDonalds across the street from where he stood.

Food. It fixed everything.

Spirits lifted at the prospect of being fed, Alfred made his way over to the fast food chain, entering to order. As he waited his turn in line to order, he glanced about the cafe, simply watching the people that happened to be there. There was a mother and her child, a few college kids, and a few older men sitting at a table. Simply looking at them, Alfred felt a connection. It was something that had always been there, something that he felt connecting him to everyone else; well, at least the people in the United States. It had been there as long as he could remember. He had no idea what it was, but he could just tell it was there. Protectiveness. Caring. Empathy. He felt what they felt. It boggled him to think about it, so he really tried not to.

Boy, this day had gotten a little too dark for his tastes. He liked to keep things light.

As Alfred sat down with his food, he noticed a few new faces enter the establishment. He set himself in the corner, so he was able to see everyone in the restaurant. The newcomers made their way to the counter, seemingly bickering about something or other. Both of them adorned business suits, briefcases settled at their sides. Businessmen. What businessmen went to McDonalds?

According to what Alfred overheard them saying, they weren't too accustomed to McDonalds either.

"What rubbish, I don't suppose the States could have finer cuisine nearby when we arrive? I never like fast food."

"Arthur please, the food in your country is even worse than this."

"You take that back, you bloody frog! At least my famous cuisine isn't full of snails!"

"It is escargot!"

"It's disgusting, wanker!"

Geez. What kind of business men fought like an old married couple?

Alfred silently witnessed the two men bicker from his corner of the eating establishment. That wasn't weird, right? They were calling attention to themselves, right? He wasn't staring, right?

Alfred turned away when the man with green eyes, and surprisingly enormous eyebrows caught his gaze. Something in those eyes was familiar. Alfred swore he had seen them somewhere before, but that's crazy. He had seen a lot of people with green eyes during his extended lifetime.

Alfred tried to shake off the weird feeling he was getting. That calling sensation. What was going on with him, honestly? First the building, now he's attracted to two random businessmen? Get it together, dude. Alfred tried to reason with his brain, which was not cooperating.

As the two men went to sit down with their food, Alfred stood, a sigh escaping him as he went to throw his trash away. It was a bit too late to stop his momentum when his shoulder collided with anothers.

"Oh, hey sorry about that-" Alfred began, turning to face the person he had bumped into, to be met with the same green eyes that he had locked with earlier.

'It's no problem, lad." The man didn't seem at all as shaken as Alfred felt, and even offered him a pleasant smile in return.

Alfred quicly turned away to leave. He could feel a blush creeping up his face. That was so stupid! How could he just make such a little mistake like that? Wait a minute, they're just normal people, why was he getting so worked up over it? Despite them just being normal people, he somehow felt that they were familiar. He probably just ate some bad hamburger earlier, and that's why he's been feeling so weird today. Yeah, that's it.

As Alfred left the building, mister Arthur Kirkland made his way over to sit across a booth from his old time rival, Francis Bonnefoy. As he sat, placing his food on the table, his green eyes glanced out the window, where he spotted the blonde boy he had crashed paths with just moments before.

"Oh ho, something on your mind Arthur?" A voice called out to him, causing his blocky, thick eyebrows to ruffle together in annoyance.

"Shut it Francis. Everything is fine." Arthur turned back to the long haired man across from him.

"You're acting strange Arthur, did something happen with that boy? Tramp caught your tongue, has he?" Francis began to smirk as he added that last part to his sentence.

"I said shut it! There is nothing the matter with me, frog" Arthur took a pause in order to take an experimental sip from the American iced tea he had purchased. Upon drinking the cool liquid, his face screwed itself in disgust, and he swallowed with agony.

"What kind of rubbish drink are they selling here, this is a disgrace to my legacy!" Arthur glared down at the cup in front of him, filled with liquid too cool for his liking.

"You know-" Francis cut into the Brit's whines of discontempt "-I feel as if I have seen that boy somewhere before. He is a bit like my little Mathew."

"Just a bit?" Arthur frowned, "They're practically identical! I almost thought the lad had followed us here from the meeting. But I knew he couldn't have."

"It is probably a simple coincidence." Francis offered with a shrug.

"Indeed. Nothing to worry about," Arthur sighed, "just a coincidence." His green eyes wandered out the window, to view the Boston streets he was uncommon with.

Even if the boy he had accidentally run into was akin to the personification of Canada that he knew so well, the teen reminded him of someone he thought he lost long ago.

It was during the era that England prided over, his days as the Great British Empire. He moved from land to land, claiming it as his own, and with the wealth he found in the Americas, as well as the other lands he pillaged, he became wealthy and well known worldwide. However it was one fatal trip to the harbors of Boston in the Massachusetts Bay Colony of the thirteen colonies in the Northern Americas that really came to the front of his mind at the moment.

The year had been 1765, he had been just arriving on the ports of Boston that day. That day, oh so long ago. His eyes, much more hardened than they were in the present day, caught sight of a boy. He was a small boy, no taller than five feet two, and no older than the age of fourteen. The child was silent as he moved, just tailing a wealthy looking English woman who had just arrived to the new lands. He walked casually, just by the woman, before turning into an alleyway, where he took off in a run. Arthur just caught the slightest smirk on the boy's face before he disappeared. Not moments later, a shrill screech tore through the air, leading to the woman the boy had passed just seconds earlier shouting-

"My necklace! My rings! My beautiful purse! Where could they have gone?"

Needless to say, Arthur had an idea about where her belongings could have ended up. He was a former pirate after all, he knew a thief when he saw one.

Arthur went about his usual business in the colonies, and later the same day found himself heading to a local pub with a few other English gentlemen. Walking along a cobbled street in the night, Arthur once again spotted the blonde boy from earlier that day, simply walking along and minding his own business. Arthur regarded the boy with a skeptical eye, but did nothing to call him out, before the boy was just behind the group of men.

With a quick mind, Arthur made a quick check in the pocket where he kept his wallet, and again on his fingers for his precious rings.

Nothing.

The Englishman paused his walking, comrades stopping their motions to gaze at their coworker in confusion. Without turning around, Arthur called-

"Lad. I'm sure you know we are not to be trifled with."

The child paused, in position to begin dashing away, and glanced over his shoulder to respond.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm just going home to my mother and father."

"Bullshit," Arthur turned around, "You are a citizen of the Queen. And under her, we do not tolerate thieves of any age."

"Thief?" The child feigned innocence, "Please sir, let me go. I just want to go home!"

"I saw you earlier today. You can drop the act, boy."

The boy's face suddenly changed, to something a little more bashful in being caught in his act.

"Oh, you saw that? Dammit...well, I gotta go. It's been fun." With that final statement the boy turned, and took off, dashing into the night.

"Hey! Get back here!" Arthur took off after the child, just on his heels, but the kid was fast. The boy swerved expertly through the city, over boxes and fences, under carts, and around corners expertly, as if he had seen the city built himself.

It wasn't too long after they had begun running that Arthur lost the boy in the maze of urban life. Swearing to himself, Arthur turned back to his original pathway, back to his coworkers. That little brat wouldn't get away with this. As he backtracked, Arthur noticed a particular ring on his finger was missing. A ring that he had from birth…

Arthur's heart dropped. It was gone. The emerald gem, the silver outline, the beutiful carvings, all snatched up by some stupid colonist boy. His stomach began bubbling, the familiar feeling of rage lifting to his throat. He knew only one thought in that moment.

That boy was going to pay, whether he had to punish the boy directly, or the entire colony, so be it.

And that was not the last time he saw the boy, either.

"-er"

"-thur"

"Arthur!"

It was the French accented voice of his fellow personification that snapped Arthur out of his stupor.

Arthur's eyes darted up to meet the sight of Francis, who was standing in front of the booth, his trash in hand.

"Are you ready to go, Arthur?" The French man inquired

Arthur glanced down at the tray in front of him, noticing it to be empty, and his stomach to be filled. Had he been eating while lost in his thoughts? It seemed as such, so Arthur stood, gathering his trash.

"Let's go, frog. We shouldn't be late for the second half of the meeting."

"As you wish Arthur~"

"And don't try to bloody kiss me!"

Meanwhile, as the two men finished their meal at McDonalds, Alfred on the other hand was down the street, casually strolling through the crowd, and observing the scenery. He really didn't know what to do with himself today. He had already gotten in trouble, he accidentally trespassed on _his own_ land, and he ate a big Mac. Honestly, what was he to do? A sudden voice cut into his thoughts and musings.

"Alfred? Alfred F. Jones? Is that really you?"

Alfred's blue eyed gaze turned to notice an elderly man in a wheelchair, one leg made entirely of metal, painted and covered in flowers. This fact was unsurprising, given that the man was sitting behind an outside booth of a flower shop.

Alfred finally felt a smile grace his lips, and his feet took him to see the elderly man, who was almost in shock at the mere sight of the personification. Alfred knew who he was almost immediately.

"Hey! Long time no see, Claude." Alfred greeted him with a friendly and familiar smile.

"Alfred? You look the same as you did back during the war!"

"I know dude, I think it's the water here in Boston. Stuff is radical." He added a chuckle to the end of his sentence.

"Radical...I haven't heard that slang in so long."

"Well, it's coming back. Ironically, but it's still coming back." Alfred smiled.

"So," the man began "I'm guessing I will not receive an explanation for how you're exactly the same as you were years ago."

"Nah, sorry dude."

"You always were a peculiar one." The man's lips were graced with a wistful smile.

"Haha, thanks," Alfred paused, taking a glance around.

"The world has changed, hasn't it?" Claude almost guessed what the personification was thinking.

"Yeah...you're telling me." As Alfred spoke, his mind flew back to the period that he and Claude spent together. It felt like yesterday. The violence, fear, and the international people he met. Of course, he met other international people before that. Like…

His mind paused. His fingers had subconsciously began to rub the smooth emerald gem that rested on the ring on his finger.

"Alfred," Claude spoke once again "go home and get some rest. Heaven knows you need it."

Alfred turned back to the old man with a gentle smile.

"It's that obvious, isn't it?" Alfred offered him a smile.

"Get some rest. We're all tired after all these years. You live a strange life, Alfred F. Jones"

After giving Claude a handshake after even the smallest encounter, Alfred began back down the street, towards the apartment building he was currently residing in.

A pair of men stood just around the corner of the coffee shop, having just arrived. However for the French and British men that were hiding behind the corner, the snippets of the conversation that Alfred was having was all they needed to hear. Something was wrong about this boy. Alfred. Something was absolutely wrong.

* * *

This is the second chapter, done and done! I hope that it's sufficient, and please, give me any constructive feedback you can!

Thank you for the overwhelming positive response on the Hetalia Amino in response to the first chapter! I'm going to continue to post the following chapter's on the app, as well as on , so comment here or there, I appreciate it!

Thank you so much to my new Beta readers, leeberty and Turkish Delight on the Hetalia amino, as well as to all the people on both Amino and Fanfiction that encouraged this story to be continued!

Thank you guys so much, and see you in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 A Familiar Sight

The personification of the United Kingdom had had just about enough. Arthur had been up all night, with this stupid, idiotic, not to mention, French man beside the apartment they had followed Alfred to. The two of them had thought that if this boy was indeed as suspicious as they believed him to be, something would have happened if they had followed him. Perhaps they would get some answers. Well, as it turns out, they thought wrong.

"This has been a complete waste of time," the English man grumbled from where he sat with his back against the wall in the hallway of the apartment building they had decided to rent a room in for the night.

"It's better to be safe rather than sorry, Angleterre," his French colleague called from beside him, where the long haired man kneeled, pressing the wide end of a glass up to the wall, and the other end to his own ear.

"We've been here all bloody night, and we have nothing," Arthur turned a glaring eye to his coworker.

"I know Angleterre, I know. But this was your idea in the first place, mon cher."

"Shut it, frog. Maybe this was a mistake, this boy has to be harmless," Arthur considered. Over his long life he had done so many missions, both with others, and alone, and usually in the first twenty four hours, spies, or criminals had made a move that had tipped him off; however, this boy had done nothing. Absolutely nothing, other than snore. The boy was a teenager after all- of course he wasn't some kind of spy or something. Arthur sighed to himself. This was a fruitless ordeal, too stupid for him to care about anymore.

"Let's go," Arthur frowned, rising to his feet.

"You're finally giving up?" Francis rose to his feet, dropping the cup from his ear.

"I'm not giving up on anything. This just isn't worth my time."

"That's what I was trying to tell you at one in the morning Angleterre-"

"Shut up frog. Let's just get back to the hotel, I need to get some damn shuteye," Arthur rubbed his forehead in an exasperated state, shuffling his way over to the door of the apartment that lead out into the hallway.

"Oui. The meeting is in a few hours, we should get back. I'm sure my darling Canada is worried sick about his Papa."

Instead of replying, Arthur simply rolled his eyes.

As the two men made their way back to their hotel room they were supposed to be staying at, Arthur, (in his already aggravated, exhausted state) was not happy to hear the accented voice of the man beside him.

"I know you're disappointed, Arthur."

Of course that Frog wanted to get all sentimental.

"I am not disappointed, you wanker. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what I mean. You miss the old days."

It wasn't too strange to see Francis in a more feeling, sentimental state, but Arthur couldn't help but be alarmed every time the French man seemed to guess what he was already feeling. He spent way too much time with the French bastard.

But Arthur had to admit. He wasn't wrong.

He could remember it so clearly, as if it was only yesterday. He sailed the seas, the true personification of the mighty and feared British Empire. He ruled over lands worldwide, faced danger and contest at every turn, fought and drank like the pirate he truly was. It was like a dream, all the power in the world, just at his fingertips. He used to interrogate spies and execute them, without a second thought. Nobody could bat an eye at him without daring his power. Just remembering the days Arthur felt a rush of adrenaline flow directly into his heart.

All the present offered him was the date of the next meeting, and Doctor Who.

Arthur felt himself begin to frown.

"Shut up, Francis. You know you feel the bloody same."

"Oui, I do. But at least I say what I feel. You get so tense Arthur." The French man's words dripped with a teasing tone at his last sentence.

"Rubbish! Just forget about it, frog!" Arthur shot a glare at his longtime companion.

"Alright, whatever you say, Angleterre." Francis shot him a wink as they approached the entrance of the hotel the nations had booked.

"I'll see you at the meeting, bloody bastard," Arthur mumbled to himself as he and Francis parted ways: he with a wink, and Arthur with a middle finger.

However, it was the two European men at fault for the rare sighting of a very distressed Canadian in the streets of Boston that fateful morning.

Matthew Williams was known to be a particularly calm person. Yesterday, he had attended the first meeting of the week held in Boston Massachusetts, just as planned. And everything was fine. He hadn't seen England or France return to the meeting after their planned lunch break, and while it worried him that his closest family members were not present, he didn't intend to pry. The next morning, he got up, made pancakes and hot chocolate, and everything was fine.

So how had his day come to the literal screeching halt that he found himself in the present?

That was a thought shared by the American teenager in front of him, unbeknownst to the Canadian, who just dented his rental car.

After heading back to his Boston apartment the day before the present, Alfred had promptly fell to his pillow, no time spent in front of the television like normal days. Instead, he stared at his ceiling in thought. Something big was going to come. He didn't know how, but he just did. He just knew. Something in his gut was twisting, uncomfortably so. It was akin to a tapping noise in the back of his head, constantly irritating him to no end. This was a feeling he got before he became a hero. He didn't mean hero in the literal sense, simply a hero to one person, or a few. Trouble was going to start soon, and he had to stop it. That was his job, right? His country was his to protect, at least, that's the job he gave himself. Heavens knows that his bosses only ever gave him work to keep him busy, as if any of it actually mattered. So he didn't bother with it. No, he had his own work to do, being a hero among his people, there to protect them. He couldn't do that locked away in the White House. His mind wandered to how many people he could have saved during those oh so many years he was locked away from his people.

His mind continued to wander, until it landed upon those strangers he had met in the McDonalds earlier that day. They weren't his people. He could just tell, they were foreigners. Now, he could always tell who was simply a foreign citizen from outside his own country: he couldn't sense them. Not like he could feel the soul and spirits of his own people, they were out of his reach. There was some kind of barrier between him, and foreign citizens, something he could not understand, but accept. That's why he did his very best to learn from the people who came to him through his lifetime. He wanted to know about them, about their culture, their politics, their religions, everything. As he grew up, he learned about all kinds of people, and as much as he loved his own country, his heart longed for something different. Something authentically traditional that wasn't from his own culture.

Something _new._

There was something about the men he ran into earlier. The long haired, French one, who gave him a major pansexual or bisexual vibe, and the shorter angry man with the eyebrows of steel. He couldn't sense them. But he could, at the same time. They weren't just foreigners. They weren't just business men. They weren't tourists.

They were _new._

And Alfred was going to find out what was so new about them.

So that's what lead him to sit outside the very next morning, on a bench casually sipping caramel iced coffee, just across from the business building. It was a nice day, if a little warm. And he was ready to try and catch those weird men in the act of...something. He wasn't quite sure yet. But they had to be connected with that weird building...somehow. He was more of a "go with the flow" thinker, he'd make up his daring, heroic plan in the moment. Just when the time is right.

It was when he saw a glimpse of what appeared to be three men, a large blonde, smaller brunette, and small black haired male begin entering the building that he enacted his brilliant plan. They weren't the men he met at McDonalds, but they had to be connected somehow.

As Alfred spotted the trio, he leaped to his feet, determined to make it across the street and have a word with the men before they were out of his reach. His feet took him across the sidewalk, and down into the crosswalk in a desperate race against time to meet the men.

He halted in his tracks at the sound of a car coming to a screeching halt just beside him.

On instinct, Alfred stuck his hand out to the front of the car in order to protect himself, and he was greeted by the shrieking of breaks stopping at a moment's notice, and the bending sound of metal. Once he had the courage to open his eyes to assess the damage, and see if the passengers were alright, he was met with a face that was strikingly similar to his own, mouth opened into a small "o" of surprise.

Blue eyes met violet in a confused, long stare as horns of incoming traffic blared around them. But they did nothing to hinder the connection of the two strangers.

The man in the car, held back by his seatbelt, regarded his supposed doppleganger with intense surprise and curiosity. To be honest, he had no clue what he was doing. They were just...staring at each other.

The personification of Canada was soon shook of his stupor, and went to undo his buckle, but not before he heard the sound of police sirens in the distance.

Almost as if the teen were in alarm, the blue eyed boy, turned in the direction of the sirens, and after a moment of hesitation, with another glance at the purple eyed twin in the car, he took off running in the opposite direction as the sirens.

Matthew managed to undo his buckle, and escape from his car, just to see the boy take a turn around another skyscraper. He glanced to the street to see his colleagues, Germany, Northern Italy, and Japan staring in wonder at the wreckage he had just escaped. Matthew calmly made his way to their side of the street, onto the crosswalk, and waited for the police to arrive, which took less than a minute; they must have been called immediately by a bystander.

As he surveyed the scene that he unceremoniously found himself in, Matthew felt his mind wander back to the person that looked so much like him. He could have sworn he had seen his twin somewhere before, other than in the mirror every morning.

He knew that person. He had to. Matthew could just feel it. He had seen that person before, a long long time ago.

He remembered running.

Running running running.

Running far away from people who looked like him, but there was someone there in the very beginning. A few people he used to know, who looked different, and like him.

Matthew could remember them. A brother, he used to have a brother and a mother before he even knew his own name. Before England and France came to their lands, during the time when the Native Americans roamed freely without any contact with civilizations that existed beyond the Atlantic and Pacific.

He had a family. It was small, and they moved a lot. He and his brother, before they met anyone at all, they used to run through open fields and climb trees without anyone to bother them. They were fairly strong as well, even as children. He remembered playing with his brother, who looked so alike him, throwing rocks, going sledding, playing tag, swimming, and most of all, exploring.

Matthew didn't know who he was at the time, but he already knew he loved the land that he had found. There was a new adventure at every corner, new challenges to take on. When they were that small, the world felt impossibly big. He and his brother preferred to stay together. He remembered…sitting under the stars together, sleeping. Making sure they always had each other's back, no matter what happened.

"Hey, Ahmik! Come on, tonight is perfect," He remembered his brother calling to him.

"Dyami wait up, you're too fast!"

His little legs pumped as they sped through the high, wet grass that was just kissed by the cold that accompanied the coming of dusk.

A laugh rang out from a few yards in front of Matthew, where he could see his brother's dark silhouette.

"You slowpoke! Come on, I found a perfect spot."

Matthew followed the voice of his brother, until he came to a stop on a small piece of land. The ground was covered in flattened grass that seemed to be tied methodically together, to form a sort of natural cushion from the cold hard ground. And on it, laid his brother.

Without a moment of hesitation, Matthew laid next to the mysterious figure he once knew, and his eyes lifted to meet the darkening sky of the night. As the sun left them, they were greeted with another beautiful sight, the view of stars, little blinking lights that lit up the darkness of night.

Beside Matthew, his brother wiggled in anticipation, his arm rising to point at the sky.

"Look Ahmik! It's the two lovers!"

Purple eyes darted to the direction of the brother's arm, meeting the cluster of stars that he recognized as the supposed two lovers.

"Hey Dyami, do you remember the story?"

"What, you don't?"

"I want to hear it again."

There was a moment's pause.

"One time, really really long ago, there were two lovers who lived divided," The brother began. "Their parents and villages were enemies, so they were forbidden to see each other, but they were determined."

Matthew's eyes closed.

"They built tunnels, tunnels under the ground that were combined into a labyrinth, so nobody would know how to navigate it. In the middle of the labyrinth, is where they would meet."

"But how did they know where to go?"

"They put stars on the ceilings. And when they put out their fires in the caverns, the stars would show them the way to each other."

There was a moment's pause as the brothers laid under the night sky.

"Hey, Ahmik?"

"Yeah?"

His brother paused.

"We'll be able to use the stars too, right? If they did it, why can't we?"

"We won't need to, Dyami. We're going to be together forever. Nothing is gonna take me away from you," he assured his brother.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Once Matthew opened his eyes, he was not greeted by the starry paradise lost in the past, but rather by a rather annoyed English man, and a French man bounding towards him on the sidewalk.

"Matthieu!"

Welcome back to reality, Mattie.

Matthew turned to the voice of his father, Francis, with a soft smile.

"Hey Papa."

"Salut Matthieu! I-" Francis paused as he glanced over the Canadian, "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

Matthew brushed off the French man's concerns with a light smile.

"I'm alright, just had a little traffic scare. Nothing to worry about."

Matthew could feel the stares from the American people on him, just because of his pronunciation.

"What happened, lad?" The British man, practically his second father, spoke up next to Francis.

"Someone just ran in front of my car, that's all." The boy offered the pair a shrug of nonchalance.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're alright," Arthur offered in response, pleasantly.

"Actually, the person who ran into me looked just like me. It was kind of freaky, eh."

In response to the Canadian's words, Arthur and Francis shot a look of suspicion at each other.

"...What?" Matthew glanced between the two men in front of him.

"We...happen to be looking into a boy that looks just like you, Matthieu."

"What?" The Canadian felt his eyebrows squish together in confusion on his forehead.

"Is that why the two of you went missing yesterday?"

"Oui…"

"Yes…"

Matthew frowned. What was so special about this one American that got two former empires to skip their jobs just to investigate? Why did he care?

"Isn't that a little disrespectful? Were you invading his privacy?"

"Non, we just listened next to his apartment all night," Francis offered with a sheepish smile.

"Shut it, Francis!"

"It was your idea in the first place, Arthur!"

"Well we know now he's not a spy, and that's because of me! If it were up to you, we would just be wine drunk last night!"

"At least I can handle my alcohol!"

Matthew could already feel a headache beginning to form.

"I'm going to grab some medicine," the Canadian chipped in to his coworkers as they argued, beginning his way down the street quickly to the local convenience store just around the corner, in the direction his twin had gone.

The Canadian was followed by the two men, and the trio made their way to the store in just a few moments, although to the Canadian, listening to his family blabber, it felt a little longer than that.

All he wanted to do was get his medicine, go to the meeting, and then go back to the hotel. However, his plans hit a bit of a loop when he walked into the store, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

And his supposed doppelganger was the one aiming it at him.

* * *

Yell at me all you want, but this is gonna be another cliffhanger chapter.

Thank you to the amazing supporters of this story, as well as those who support my work. It's so strange to have an audience that's actually excited for the next chapter for once! So thank you so much! These comments are giving me will to live.

I want to give a particularly big thank you to my Beta Readers for this story, they have been such a huge help giving story advice, being creative, helping with historical research, and really just encouraging me to get off my butt and write something. This chapter would have been a week later if it wasn't for them, so thank you guys so much! Links to their account's are in my bio, definitely check them out.

Following that, I want to mention the Native American names I used in this chapter. While I, and my amazing Beta readers did do some research on the Native languages in the New England area before colonization, we couldn't find the specific language or area the names Ahmik and Dyami come from for sure, instead it was indicated they were just general among all tribes. If you actually know that information, please comment or PM me! I always love to learn.

For the record, Ahmik means Beaver, and Dyami means Eagle when translated to English.

Anyways, thank you everyone for the support, and I'll see you in the next chapter!


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